


Keep the Lamp On

by panfremas



Series: And They Were Roommates! [1]
Category: The Sopranos
Genre: College, F/F, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Orgasm, POV Second Person, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:15:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27586631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/panfremas/pseuds/panfremas
Summary: Meadow has just lost her virginity, but Noah didn't quite get her there. Her roommate, Caitlin, encourages Meadow to join her in some solo pursuits. Unknown to them, you're the agent listening to the bug in Meadow's lamp, and you enjoy what you hear. Marked noncon for nonconsensual voyeurism, but no violence. TW for offensive language and male voyeurism to women.
Series: And They Were Roommates! [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2016566





	Keep the Lamp On

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this fic. I've always wanted to do a Meadow fic, so here it is. I'd encourage you to google "Meadow Soprano roommate" to get a pic of Caitlin, a character you may not remember (but should!). Be aware: I use an offensive term for lesbian in this fic, spoken by a character. I do not endorse this term, but for the time it took place, the situation and the context of Meadow's character, I think it fits.

Whoosh. Ka chunck. Clip, clap, clip clap, clip clap. Whumph.

Meadow Soprano, by the sounds her bedside lamp constantly taped, har arrived back at her dorm room. 

Click.

You, the lowly agent assigned to this thankless task of hoping a mobster’s daughter drops some relevant detail inamongst her idle chit chat and napping, pause the playback and eject the tape.

“M.S. — 9/25/00, 1 a.m.” it says in hasty black marker pen on the casette. She’s coming back late.

You pop the tape back in.

Clunk. Click. Sweeewooowissssweee. Click. Clip, clap, clip, clap. Whumph.

You hear rusltes, as fabric meeting fabric.

“You’re coming back late,” her roommate says. 

Click.

Caitlin. Rucker, Caitlin. 19. Columbia University student, apparent barely functioning alcoholic, unabashed slut and general layabout. You hear a hell of a lot more of her than your actual target on these unending tapes. You know there’s no reason to listen to most of it when it’s Caitlin alone, that you should fast-forward to whenever Meadow returns. But you listen to a whole lot of everything Caitlin does when she’s alone. When she thinks she’s alone. And you like it.

You open the metal drawer of this menial desk they’ve got you at all night and rustle through the folder. You pull out the girl’s recon photo, taken across Washington Square Park about a month ago. 

You gaze at the black-and-white photograph of the coed. She’s a little heavy, but she’s hot. Her hair’s flat, but it’s long and you can almost tell how blonde it is without color on the photo. Her skin’s perfect. You can tell she’s from the Midwest, but her smile lights up her face. You know how she talks, and the other noises she makes. They match her expression. You’ve heard her get ready, but even if you hadn’t, you’d see she spends a long time on how she looks.

Her tits probably aren’t as big as they look, but because of her frame and a way-too-small bra she probably got at K-Mart in high school, they look like the kind of tits that spill forward over the edge of her cami, threatening to pop out at any moment. The kind of tits you want to bury your face in. The kind of tits Meadow could only dream of.

You rustle the papers, bringing a color shot of your actual target from her graduation pool party to the fore. You try to ignore the old men, the real subjects of the photograph, ogling her even then. They probably breathed the same sigh of relief you did when she got old enough you didn’t have to feel bad for beating off to her. Her perfect brown hair, slick with chlorinated water. Her olive-brown skin that made you wonder if Carmella had any secrets. 

You’re stunned her mother let her out of the house in that red bikini, by the way. The bottom is one thing. It hugs her ass like a layer of skin, and you imagine you can see it hugging the crease of her perfect cunt too, even if the mark is probably just a dark room imperfection. 

But the top. Holy shit. You take it back, Meadow’s tits are probably just as big as Caitlin’s. Bigger even. They just aren’t pushed up by an ill-fitting padded bra. Screw spilling out, Meadow’s are practically bare in that thin red piece of fabric anyway. They must bounce like nobody’s business, you reckon. Her nipples are probably dark brown like her hair. You want to suck them fucking dry.

You reenter reality and look back to the tape player. You reach down and adjust your cock in your khakis. You’re hard.

Click. Wahwahwahwahwah. Ka-chunk. Click.

“You’re coming back late. Busy night?”

“You could say that,” Meadow laughs.

“Did you and Noah…?” Caitlin asks in a whisper.

Meadow giggles again. After a beat, Caitlin screams with joy. Meadow must have nodded.

“I thought so. You looked bright red when you came in. All the way?” Caitlin asks.

“Uh huh,” Meadow responds shyly.

“Is he big?” Caitlin asks with an audible aroused curiosity.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen one, well not properly, not besides my brother’s little gummi worm of a hard-on,” Meadow responds.

“Say when,” Caitlin says. She must be holding out her hands. 

“That’s about right,” Meadow says, after a short pause.

You reckon Noah can’t be too big. He’s not bigger than you. But it wouldn’t take much to break Meadow’s tiny cunt anyhow. You’d have her unable to walk.

Click. 

You pause the playback again and look around you to make sure you’re alone. It’s late, and no one is ever here anyway past five. You reach up tilt your headphones slightly so one ear is uncovered, just in case. You reach down to unbutton unzip your fly. You pull your pants and boxers down a bit and grab your balls and the base of your cock, bringing them forward over the waistband of your underwear. You spit in your hand and mix it with the precum you’ve been leaking for a bit now. You start stroking yourself, avoiding the tip, slowly.

With your free hand you reach up to the tapedeck.

Click. Wahwahahwahwahwah. Ka-chunk. Click. 

“That’s about right.”

“Nice,” Caitlin responds. “Was it good?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Meadow responds, thoughtfully. “It hurt a little at first, but once we got going it was nice.”

“First times are like that,” Caitlin said reassuringly. “Did you cum?”

“Cait!” Meadow practically yelled, caught off-guard and embarrassed.

“I’ll take that as a no,” Caitlin responded cooly. 

Meadow sighed loudly.

“No, I didn’t…climax,” she admitted, “but Noah did, and it was really nice, and he was very considerate. He just couldn’t really find my…”

“Clit?” Caitlin interrupted as Meadow trailed off. “You can say it, we’re both girls.”

“OK,” Meadow said, still coy.

“Guys are hopeless with that. You have to show them,” Caitlin lectured. You’d think she was a sexual expert, when in reality she’d just fucked her way through a rural high school, and had probably been given as many orgasms in sum as Meadow had. 

“He might figure it out if you let him go down on you,” she continued. “I hope you didn’t fake it?”

“Not really, I don’t think so,” Meadow responded. “He kind of lost all awareness once he finished.”

“Good,” Caitlin responded. “Once you fake it, they’ll never actually make you cum, cause they won’t know they have to work harder at it.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Meadow said matter-of-factly.

“I take it your still pretty horny, then?” Caitlin asked. 

You start stroking a bit faster, your grip a little tighter on your cock. You really should bring some lube in your lunchbox, the amount of times you find yourself beating off to these tapes. 

“I’m…a little worked up, yes,” Meadow says at length. 

“Well I was actually gonna try to rub one out before you got back, so I’m going to take care of that if you don’t mind, and you’re more than welcome to join me,” Caitlin said, as if she was announcing she was about to study, or some other innocuous task. Meadow was silent.

“Come on, you can’t seriously have me believe you’ve never played with yourself? In Oklahoma there’s nothing to do all day but drink and jill off,” Caitlin said incredulously.

“I have,” Meadow responded. “Once or twice.”

A week, you want to add. You’ve heard her. You know she’s lying. She’s quiet when she does it, but it’s obvious. Nothing to be ashamed of. But nowhere near as much as Caitlin. She’s one horny slut, and she gets herself off at least every day when Meadow’s off being a college student.

You fight the urge to speed up on your cock. You gather another dollop of precum as it drips down the head.

“Well then what are you waiting for, let’s go,” Caitlin says, as you hear rustles of fabric meaning she’s removing her panties. “Or suit yourself, wait till I’m done and do it after I go to bed. But either way you won’t be able to fall asleep till you cum, take it from me. At least I couldn’t.”

“You expect me to just sit here while you…do that?” Meadow says, her turn to be incredulous. “I’m not a dyke, Cait, but how am I supposed to ignore that?”

“You’re not,” Caitlin says. “You’re supposed to rub your pussy, like I said. But it’s your choice.”

“Don’t call it that,” Meadow says firmly.

“Why, you think it’s dirty?” Caitin retorts. “God, Med, you really are a prude.”

“No it’s not that,” Meadow says. “If you associated it with a big fat Italian guy, you wouldn’t call it that either.”

Caitlin laughs, and you do too. 

“So, you gonna…” Caitlin starts.

“Jesus, Cait, you sure you’re not a dyke?” Meadow interrupts. “You really wanna see me masturbate that bad? Fine. But only cause you’re right, I’m about to drip through my fucking jeans here, OK? And don’t look at me or anything, this is soooo weird.”

“Fine by me,” Caitlin says. “Hurry up, though. I can’t tease myself like this much longer. I was already warmed up when you barged in.”

“It’s my room, too, Cait,” Meadow responds over the sound of rustling fabric. “Sorry to cut into your solo time.”

“No problem, Med,” Caitlin responds. You hear her breath catch; she’s starting. “It’s so much hotter when you make yourself wait. I’m so fucking wet.”

“Me too,” Meadow responds, over more rustling. “I don’t think it’s ever been this bad. And my…my clit is literally poking out. Oh!”

It’s a sharp, surprised moan. Meadow catches herself. Caitlin laughs.

“You go, girl,” she says. “Rub that little fucker raw.”

Click. 

You look around again. You’re alone. You always are. Fuck it. You put the other headphone back on. You’ll be damned if you’ll miss one decibel of this. Your cock is aching.

Click. Wahwahahwahwahwah. Ka-chunk. Click.

“Rub that little fucker raw,” Caitlin encourages. She would know. A pause. “Why you think doing it under the covers spares you any modesty is beyond me.”

“Less talking, more jilling, OK, Cait?” Meadow says breathily, exasperated with arousal. You can just imagine her eyes slammed shut, trying to drown out her chatterbox roommate. “You’re throwing me off.”

“Suit yourself,” Caitlin responds.

For a while, all you hear is Caitlin. She’s louder about it, and apparently she isn’t muffling her actions with a blanket. You hear her moans, and her whispered exhortations to herself that that’s the spot, that oh fuck right there, that feels so good. But more than that you hear the unmistakable squelching of hand on wet pussy. 

These are the sounds that have made you cum a baker’s dozen times in the weeks since the bug inadvertently ended up in Meadow’s dorm room. But tonight your holding out for the subtler sounds that have made you cum harder and even more — Meadow’s.

The minutes pass agonizingly as you fight to keep a slow, steady pace on your cock, remaining on a flimsy plateau and willing yourself not to start the race toward orgasm. Caitlin gets louder. You hear little of Meadow, except a heavy exhale now and again.

“Are you close, Med?” you hear from Caitlin, in short broken words between moans and heavy breaths. “I’m gonna cum. I can’t hold off much longer.”

“Go ahead,” Meadow responds in that same exasperated tone. The Soprano girl takes longer, you know well. It’s not quite as automatic for her. “I’m not there yet.”

No sooner has Meadow given permission than Caitlin is cumming, loudly with moans and swears and shaking of her creaky wooden bedframe. It takes all your strength not to start shooting cum right then. You let go of your cock and hold off for a while.

You hear Caitlin recover, her breaths returning to normal. And, of course, you hear her voice again once she has.

“Fuck that was really, really good,” she says. After a rustle of fabric and a pause: “C’mon, take off your blanket — I wanna watch.”

Meadow sighs loudly. You momentarily wish that you had cum with Caitlin. Your hands are too busy to rewind now, and you hope you’ll get something from Meadow, if Caitlin ever lets her build her orgasm. You hope Meadow’s not ready to call the whole thing off. That she’s just desperately horny enough that she’ll follow through even after Caitlin’s latest interruption. Stupid girl, you want to shout. Stop distracting her! She needs to focus on it more than you do!

Meadow says as much, though in kinder words.

“Fine,” she tells Caitlin, practically angry. “But only if you shut the fuck up. I’m trying to get off here!”

You hear nothing, mercifully, from Caitlin. Just a loud rustle of sheets and then—

The perfect sound Meadow makes when she touches herself. The methodical but unmistakable sound of her fingers stroking her most sensitive organ. You imagine that Caitlin jerks off with her whole hand rubbing haphazardly over her entire pussy, but that Meadow is careful, rubbing ever so precisely with a finger or two over her clit. You don’t have any evidence to this, but that’s what you imagine, and that’s what it sounds like.

Meadow never makes any of the moans and curses her roommate routinely does, and you can’t hear any speeding up, just the same steady stroke. But, thank heavens, after a few more minutes you begin to hear the tell-tale sounds that Meadow makes when she can feel the finish line approaching. It took you a few sessions to recognize her orgasms at all, and a few after that to note what preceded them. 

A few short intakes of breath at higher pitches than before. The rustling noise that must be her toes curling against her bottom sheet. You hope Caitlin is aware of what she’s about to witness. 

You are, so you finally give in and speed up on your cock, focusing on the sensitive spot near the tip as you prime yourself to cum with Meadow. With your free hand you frantically unbutton the bottom button of your Oxford shirt, pulling it up and away from the imminent line of fire. 

“Aah!” she moans, high pitched and sharp. That’s it, but you know it’s happening. You stroke once, twice and you’re cumming with her, shooting out jets of thick cum as she rides out the waves of her orgasm, the noise of her sheets evincing as she rocks from side to side so slightly. 

You hear her clear her throat, as her breaths return to normal, and as yours do, too. You reach over to the tissue box on your desk and grab a handful to wipe up the mess you’ve made on your stomach and the lingering rivulets dripping down your softening cock.

When it’s cleaned up, and the tissue discarded, and when you’re finally back to reality, you reach for the tape player.

Click.

You pause it for a moment to calm down.

You hope you’ll get a repeat performance with the two of them. Maybe next time Caitlin will actually hold off.

You laugh a bit at your next thought.

You hope Noah never finds her clit.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who have read my other fics, especially those in progress -- have no fear, they are still being worked on, as are two other one shots involving roommates...


End file.
